


Things Got Out Of Hand

by Madalayna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fitz has nice hands, Fitz is a fucking gentleman, Gratuitous Smut, Hand porn, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Jemma Simmons is a wildcat, Jemma likes to touch, Jemma's sense of humor is questionable, Loss of Virginity, Magic Fingers, POV Jemma Simmons, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Shameless Smut, Smut, digit ratio, dumb geniuses, have I emphasized the smut enough?, moments of cuteness, sex because science, virgin Fitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 15:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3773422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madalayna/pseuds/Madalayna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma tries to make a joke at Fitz's expense...things get out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Got Out Of Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [memorizingthedigitsofpi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorizingthedigitsofpi/gifts).



> I'm going for hot/awkward here, I hope I hit it. [insert single snort of laughter at my dumb pun here] 
> 
> I really don't know what came over me. It must've been the sandwich.
> 
> This fic is for memorizingthedigitsofpi who gave me a "version" of this prompt but it's also for those of you who've heard me rant about the absurdity of the virgin-nerd trope. This one's for you. ;) *ironic finger pistols*
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing memorizingthedigitsofpi...sorry you had to beta your own gift. :D

Jemma’s hands trembled as she tried to extract the sample from her petri dish. She was under a great deal of pressure trying to finish up her very delicate, very time-sensitive experiment before the end of the day and it was _already_ four o’clock.

She had cultures that she’d been growing all day. They needed to be removed from the incubator at exact intervals and if anything went wrong she’d be forced to repeat them. They were also quite delicate and couldn’t be left overnight on their own. The last thing she wanted to do was stay in the lab while they incubated again. She had her cot set up in the back, just in case, but it was the last thing she planned on for the evening.

Fitz, on the other hand, was not busy. He was pottering around the lab just waiting for the last hour of work to elapse so he could head home. His generally antsy nature was making a nuisance of him. He kept getting in her way at every turn. Having finished his part of their joint project earlier in the day, he felt it was unethical to leave early when you were being paid for your time. She pointed out that it was hardly fair to be paid to loaf about, but he insisted he had plenty of ideas that were still “brewing”. He was inspired by the thought to head off and make them both tea at least. She just sighed and hoped his finishing early wasn’t down to lack of following proper safety protocols.

Having gone and come back again, he was, again, loitering about the lab. He paced about, threatening to wear a rut in the linoleum and shoving lord-knows-what horrifying carbohydrate into his gob.

When her timer went off, Jemma jumped up and ran for the incubator, only to run smack into Fitz. He was directly in her path, in the space between the central island and the workbench. The space was narrow enough that they both had to turn sideways to get by one another on a good day with only a few inches to spare. Now that she was rushing it seemed downright dangerous. Fitz, seeing her plowing toward him at full speed, tried to jump back at the last second. Trouble was, she was trying to go around him in the same direction and ended up crushed between the lab bench and…him. Nose to chin, clutching at her arms for stability, Fitz seemed frozen with embarrassment as his face bloomed a very interesting tomato red.

“ _Fitz!_ ” She pushed at his chest and tried to extricate herself from his grasp.

“Sorry!” Suddenly unfrozen, he twisted around and went back to his chair, his lab coat fluttering out behind him in his haste.

Shaking her head, she got her petri dishes from the incubator and returned with them to complete her analyses. Fitz, to her relief, stayed seated for a few minutes before succumbing to his desire to wander again. When she had a stack of new dishes to go into the sterilizer, she found herself face-to-face with him again in the narrow aisle.

“Oh, sorry... _again_.” He started to back up, then seeming to think better of it he stepped forward and held out his hands. She couldn’t help but notice his long, dexterous fingers as they fluttered through the air in some sort of impatient, hurry-up gesture as he held them out to her. “Can I…ehm, help?” The gesture and question suddenly seemed suggestive and she found herself wondering exactly what he was offering to help _with_.

Her eyes grew wide at her own thought and she felt a touch of heat rising to her cheeks. Then she remembered that he couldn’t possibly know what she’d been thinking. Not to mention, how incredibly unlikely it was that Fitz would ever say anything remotely suggestive in the first place.

Breathing a small sigh that almost felt like disappointment, she looked down at her armful of very breakable glass dishes and then back at Fitz.

“Eh, no. I think...not.” He looked a bit crestfallen, dropping his arms heavily, backing away again as his head drooped slightly toward his chest. “Thank you, though,” she called after him, trying to sound enthusiastically grateful for the thought. He just went back to sit at his workstation again and began tapping away at his keyboard. Evidently, uninterested in her gratitude. She’d noticed that he seemed a bit off lately but wasn’t certain why.

Once she’d gotten her dishes into the sterilizer, she went and laid a hand on Fitz’s shoulder. He just glared at her out of the side of his eye.

“Oh, Fitz. I just didn’t want to risk smashing them all on the floor in some half-arsed transfer attempt.” It came out far angrier than she intended and Fitz’s shoulders seemed to have ridden up to ear-level. Her nerves were a bit frayed trying to get this project complete and it was beginning to show in her manners. “Sorry. I’m a bit spun out trying to finish off this project is all. The last thing I want is to make you feel I don’t appreciate your efforts. Am I even making sense anymore? Lord, I’m knackered.” She slipped her hands up to either side of her neck, bringing her shoulders up and hearing the loud crack of her spine as muscles, long held tight, began to loosen.

Fitz was looking up at her from the lower position of his chair. “I have _very_ steady hands.” He held one out at eye level to demonstrate his inherent stability.

His hand just before her eyes was exactly the sort of thing she should probably _not_ be looking at. She still had a bit of finishing up to do and Fitz’s hands could be…distracting. She couldn’t quite drag her eyes away from them at times. They were quite large, his palms nicely broad but his fingers…they really were so very nice and long. He kept them well-manicured and very clean despite how difficult his work made it. She reached out and grasped him by his middle and ring fingers, intending to compliment his steadfast immovability when she noticed something she hadn’t noticed before.

“You know, Fitz. This is a _very_ good digit ratio you have here.” She blurted it without considering all the ramifications of what she was implying.

Realizing her mistake, she certainly didn’t have to wonder for long if Fitz had read the recent study to which she was referring. He jerked his hand away and began a terrific coughing fit as if he’d inhaled some sort of irritant. His face had gone like a beet and she slapped him on the back once or twice but he waved her away. Still concerned, she waited until his coughing had died down to a bit of rough throat clearing.

“You alright?”

He nodded vigorously, overdoing it a bit dramatically and nearly cringing away from her in his seat when she went to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She shrugged and had turned to start back to her own workbench when, in a bit of a roughened but somewhat shaky voice, he asked, “Ah, Simmons? What…erm, were you on...about...then?”

With her back still to him, she couldn’t help but smirk at his brashness. He _must_ know what she was on about or it certainly wouldn’t have provoked such an extreme reaction. He seemed intent on making sure _she_ knew. She was immediately decided on winding him up a bit. Turning back, she pasted an innocent smile on her lips.

“Oh, just a new study I read about. A lower 2D:4D ratio has been correlated to,” she began to mark them off on her fingers, “greater abilities in academics—maths in particular—more symmetrical features, increased musical ability and even higher levels of innovative creativity…” She tapped her finger in the center of her palm, looking up in thought. “Mm, yes, I think that’s it.”

“Oh.” Fitz managed to _somewhat_ hide his disappointment. She had to bite her lip to keep from smirking again. It seemed he wouldn’t go to the extreme of telling her himself. Now he’d painted himself into a corner of pretending he didn’t know. There was nothing stopping him from coming back tomorrow and telling her he’d read the study though. So if she wanted to torment him it would have to be today. However, it was nearly time to head home so she’d have to be quick about it.

“Well…I think there’s also some protection from disease that’s associated with it.” She paused as if recollecting, even though she’d just read the study and could perfectly recall the information. “Decreased risk for heart disease, obesity, depression, psychopathy and anxiety disorders.”

He nodded unenthusiastically, his dissatisfied expression seeming to say, _Well, that is what_ you _would remember about it_. He turned his back to her, returning to his computer and starting up his tap-tap-tapping again. She covered her mouth to suppress the chuckle that wanted to escape over her slightly cruel game. It was incredibly satisfying for how juvenile it was.

She opened her mouth to tell him the last little bit of information when her final timer went off. “Oh, bollocks,” she muttered at having her fun interrupted. The curse was unusual enough to make Fitz look over but he made no comment.

She worked on completing her samples, entirely forgetting about toying with Fitz. When she finally finished tidying up, he was already pulling his lab coat off his shoulders. Remembering her scheme, she tried to work out how to finish it off now. Generally, they had dinner together once or twice a week. She’d started the tradition mainly so he wouldn’t get scurvy. The only actual vegetables that ever seemed to pass his gums appeared to be from her kitchen. Gnawing her lip, she made a decision.

“Fitz?”

“Mm-hmm?” He was packing his messenger bag with notes.

“Would you, eh, mind walking me back to my flat?” She only lived a short distance from the lab and though it was definitely an unusual request, it was nothing she thought he would refuse.

Their usual dinners were generally rather unplanned affairs unless there were work-related reasons. She would call him on occasion when she’d done the shopping and had more food available or Fitz would call her to see if what she planned to make appealed to him. He seemed to think he was very sneaky and clever in this but she’d just never let on.

He was looking at her, frozen in the act of placing a stack of papers into his bag. His eyes were wide and his brows were halfway up his forehead, as if she’d sprouted wings or a second head. She hadn’t thought it was _that_ much of an odd request anyway…

She just blinked at him, uncertain what more to say if he didn’t respond.

“Ehm, yeah. Sure. Yep. Not a problem. _Fantastic_.” His lips continued to flutter though no sound seemed to be coming out now. He was drumming his fingers rapidly on his bag and blinking as if he’d suddenly lost the ability to coordinate his eyelids. One appeared to be going faster than the other.

“You alright, Fitz?” It was all she could do not to go check him for fever or perhaps stroke. Did she have a penlight?

He was nodding, his eyes had synchronized again and his hands were hastily stuffing papers down into his bag. He flopped it shut and slung it over his head and across his shoulder in a single swift movement. “Ready?”

“Eh…yes. In one second.” She looked around making sure everything was tidy and then slipped her lab coat off and hoisted her own bag onto her shoulder.

Fitz was by the door, waiting, the fingers of one hand dancing along the strap across his chest. If he were keeping a beat, his fingers were tapping with all the speed of a techno song playing in his head. He looked agitated and a little pale…well, _paler_.

They set off at a brisk pace that she set for them. Fitz, for once, seemed to be keeping it. Normally, when they walked together, he seemed to be always lagging behind unless he was truly excited about something, then she generally had a difficult time keeping up with his longer legs.

Jemma pulled her keys out as they came to her building, unlocking the heavy glass outer door. She went straight in but Fitz hung back, hesitating in a strange, unfamiliar way.

When she turned to find him still outside on the step, she asked, “What the devil is the matter with you? Need an engraved invitation now? Or…do you have somewhere else to be?” She didn’t really think he did, not without mentioning it, but far be it from her to hold him up if he did, even for a laugh.

He shook his head and chuckled. “No, no, course no'.” He stepped inside, letting the door close behind him as she got her mail and unlocked the door to her flat.

She threw her uninteresting mail on her entry table along with her bag and called over her shoulder. “You want something to drink?”

“ _God_ , yes.” He sounded so relieved to have been asked, that she chuckled.

“Help yourself.” She went into her bedroom to change out of her lab clothes.

When she came back in soft pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, Fitz was sitting on the sofa clutching two fingers of scotch to his chest.

“Well, I said ‘drink’, I suppose.” She shook her head and dropped down next to him, noting another glass next to the bottle. She leaned back, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back for a good stretch.

There were many sides of Fitz and she would have thought she’d seen them all over the years. But this odd-Fitz was one she didn’t know what to do with. She could handle embarrassed-Fitz or annoyed-Fitz, she rather enjoyed overly-dramatic-Fitz and freaking-out-to-within-an-inch-of-his-life-Fitz but this new one was troubling. She didn’t know how to respond.

“This is very strange for me, Simmons.” His eyes were overly-wide as he goggled at her in a completely unknown way. Fitz had looked at her nearly every day for the last seven years, she was quite familiar with how he looked at her and that was _not_ how he was looking at her now. He actually had a very hungry look to him, as if she was something he might like to eat and she realized he must be starving.

“It is?” she answered a bit absently, attempting to ignore his strangeness while she tried to think what she had in the fridge that she could knock up for tea. She wasn’t even sure if he was staying, not the peculiar way he was acting, though he didn’t usually refuse her cooking. “Are you staying for tea?”

His eyes grew even wider and his gaze became very pointed as he cocked his head to the side and leaned forward. “I don’t know. _Am_ I?”

She couldn’t stop from wrinkling her nose in irritation as she rolled her eyes. “Fitz, what _are_ you on about?”

“I don’t know.” He set his untouched drink on the table with a thump, leaning away from her as far as he could on the small sofa. Well, he was certainly not short on drama tonight. “Wha' abou’ you! With your…your…your…” He sucked in a breath, his eyes going squinty as his head rocked to the side. “Innuendo!”

At that, she burst out laughing. Fitz’s expression went rather horrified at his own word, eyes wide, mouth pursed in a tense O. She nearly felt sorry for him, really.

“Oh, my God, Fitz.” She put her hand over her mouth to at least muffle her gales of laughter. She managed to say in between guffaws, “I…was just…winding…you up.”

She’d been planning to wait until he left and then hit him with a final recollection of what the 2D:4D ratio study posited—a larger-than-average length penis. She really just wanted to see the look on his face but this was…Well, she couldn’t stop giggling and had to wrap her arms across her belly to dull the ache in her muscles.

But when the realization of what Fitz must have been thinking suddenly clattered through her brain like a tray full of dropped petri dishes, her laughter died away in an instant.

“Oh, goodness, Fitz. You didn’t think I was…” she searched for the most diplomatic words but was drawing a blank, “…that I was, eh...well, trying to… _check_?” She instantly brought her hands up to hide her reddening cheeks. Her complete shame over the whole misunderstanding momentarily playing second fiddle to her embarrassment at her horribly clumsy words.

“I didn’t know _what_ to think.” He threw his hand in the air as he leaned back on the arm of the sofa looking a bit more relaxed.

But as she watched him, he almost seemed weighted with disappointment, sagging into the sofa with his head hanging loosely. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but a disappointed-Fitz was one of the many facets she was very familiar with. Sometimes he seemed almost determined to be disgruntled with the entire world as if it were all against him. This would be simple for her to deal with if only she could figure out the source of his dissatisfaction... _Oh_.

She sucked in a breath at her sudden epiphany. “Fitz, you thought I was…that I!? And you!? But you—you came here anyway? You were… _what_ exactly?” Her ability to articulate her thoughts seemed to be on hiatus.

She shook her head, cocking it from one side to the other, as if trying to get the new information to settle down into her brain. Fitz had never shown _anything_ like interest in her before. He’d always been a bit physically distant really. This thought caused another realization… _he hadn’t wanted her to know_. He was afraid she didn't feel the same.

If she needed further confirmation than her own thoughts—his face went ashen. She watched the blood literally drain away. She was rather impressed he didn’t faint.

“I…I…I, ehm,” he gulped audibly, “I—I was…just...” He couldn’t bear the weight of her expectant look and he suddenly dropped his head back, aiming his eyes at the ceiling and distinctly away from her keen gaze. He sighed and began to grind the heels of his hands into his eyes. His breathing sounded slightly ragged. “Fuck, Simmons.”

“Apparently.” It had been a reflex. An attempt, somewhere in the back of her mind, to lighten the mood but his words and hers just hung in the air like a dense, unmoving cloud. Any other time they might have laughed but the tension was so thick in the room that it captured their word like flypaper, forcing them to clear up the mess.

Fitz pulled his hands away from his face and slowly craned his head forward to look at her. She thought perhaps he’d laugh or smile but he just peered at her, waiting to see what she would say or do. It figured that he would leave the clearing up to her.

Then, she looked at his hands as he slid them down to lie flat on the tops of his thighs.

She had thought about them quite often, especially in the last few months. What interested her wasn’t just their attractiveness. (Though they were rather nice specimens.) No, it was what he could do with them. She thought of all the times he’d held her with those hands—rubbing circles on her back or tenderly stroking her arm, brushing over her hair. All the times he’d taken her hand to help her or to show her how to use an unfamiliar tool or even just rub his thumb over her skin soothingly.

All the ways he used them to show her that he loved her on almost a daily basis. She didn’t know how to quantify what kind of love it was, but it seemed like the kind that might last a lifetime. And, right now, at this moment, she was certain that Fitz _wanted_ her in all the possible meanings of that word. She gasped at the unfamiliar thought. His loving her, yet not wanting her, had been enough five minutes ago simply because it had been the only option. Now, knowing that they both felt the same way, somehow made the platonic aspect of their relationship seem unnecessary. She had no doubt that they could figure out the rest together, they always did.

And that was how she came to crawl toward him cat-like on the sofa. She was a little nervous but she didn’t want it to show. When she was nervous it made _him_ more nervous and that was the last thing they needed just now. His eyes seemed very large as he regarded her on her hands and knees in front of him. He eyed her like he would a playful kitten that might strike out with its claws at any second. And that just wouldn’t do.

“Come here.” She sat back on her heels and waited for him to decide.

He still seemed to be breathing a little quicker and shallower than usual. His face was a mask of concentration while, she presumed, he deliberated on his options, weighed the pros and cons. Fitz’s decision-making skills were directly connected to his brain’s emotional center. If he had strong feelings about something, he could override the logic. She hoped he would come to the same conclusion she had, that together they _always_ made logical sense.

Finally, his eyebrows came together in a look of determination. He scooted forward until he was nearly against her, close enough to feel his body heat. Putting her hands on his shoulders for balance, slowly and carefully, she brought their lips together, inch by wavering inch.

Neither of them closed their eyes. She watched as his face gradually filled her field of vision until his breath was tickling across her chin. She felt its coolness as their mouths came together very gently. His lips were soft and sweet, she brushed his lower lip with the tip of her tongue and let out a soft sigh in the back of her throat. She opened herself to him, ready for more...Then he pulled away, leaning back and sucking his lower lip back to run his tongue over the place where hers had just been.

“Simmons…ehm, Jemma…” he raked a hand through his hair, setting it spiking up at odd angles, “Just…just tell me this isn’t goin’ to be tha’ mad thing we did tha’ time, yeah?”

She smiled, relieved that he wasn’t giving up so easily. “Of course not.” She tried giving him a sultry look that she wasn’t quite sure she’d mastered. “What if it’s that mad thing we do whenever we feel like doing it?”

“Jemma, I mean, this…we can’t jus'  _do_ this, and then… _go back_.” He looked away but she could tell he wasn’t finished, his face was tense with some acute, unspent emotion. When he met her eyes again, his brows were drawn tightly together, his mouth turned down at the corners—he looked a bit sad but also steeled against a hurt he seemed to know was coming. “I—I mean, _I can’t_ , anyway.” He reached down to flick some invisible lint from the sofa while he waited for her response.

But the answer was easy for her. “Neither can I.” His head came up instantly and the smile he gave her was a bright beam of light out of the dark he’d tried to wrap himself up in.

He straightened, moving back to her as she drew closer, clutching at his shoulders again. The second union of their lips was a glancing blow, both of them laughing nervously as they rubbed their lips. The first rush of boldness had passed and now so much thought had gone into it they were both too nervous. Holding him steady with her hands over his ears, she went in again.

Their third attempt was a little like two marshmallows coming together for a snog. They were both so afraid of mucking it up again that they forgot to participate. Fitz was the first to snap himself out of his daze. He slipped his hands around her back and hauled her against him hard enough to let her feel that he had more strength than she gave him credit for. Her arms locked around his neck in an instant.

His slack lips became supple and molded against her own, drawing on hers until she opened to him. She felt the immediate rush of heat between her legs as he slipped his tongue through her parted lips. The lazy slide of his against hers left a thrill of warmth in its wake. Her skin began to feel overheated even as the muscles in her legs began to quiver.

She already knew where she wanted this to go. They’d known each other too long for it not to now. She’d spent too many years wondering if it was all headed this way eventually and those years of anticipation were already bringing her desire to a fevered pitch. Now that they were balanced firmly on the brink, she didn’t want to go backwards. She also didn’t know how much longer she could wait.

She pulled back, giving just enough room to speak before bringing their lips together again. “Mmm, bed.” She felt him shiver against her at the word. She tried to move away again but he held her there kissing her in a rhythm that was making the pulse between her legs keep time.

He seemed not to want to part from her but he finally pulled back, drawing her bottom lip out between his lips and letting it go again. “Already? I, ehm…”

He looked nervous and slipping her hands down over his chest, she placed several quick little kisses over his cheeks that made him smile. She didn’t mind if he wanted to go a bit slowly but she wanted to be comfortable and her tiny sofa wasn’t the place.

“We can go as slowly as you like there. It’s far more comfortable,” she assured him. She really hoped she didn’t have to deliver on that promise. His grateful smile was worth every effort it took for her to come out with those words when what she really wanted to do was rip his clothes off and have it off with him that instant. Instead, she stepped off the sofa and held out her hand. “Come on, then.”

He was looking at her the way he had when they first met. She thought it was something akin to adoration. She’d never had another man look at her like that and she had to admit, it was a definite turn on. She didn’t know when the way he’d looked at her had changed, but she knew that it was when she’d put her thoughts of these activities away, only to be examined again in the deep, lonely darkness.

His fingers twined with hers as she led him to her bedroom. There was certainly no point in playing coy with Fitz. They knew so much about one another, and yet so many important, essential details were missing. She delighted in the anticipation of learning all his most intimate secrets.

She wanted to know the fit of his body against hers, the taste of him, to see the faces he made in his moments of bliss, but more than any of those, she wanted to know all the deeply private things that he was afraid to tell anyone but her, now that they were finally coming close to the profoundly deep connection that she always knew they were capable of.

She was trembling with nervous excitement as they stopped and faced each other next to her bed.

She reached up and slowly dragged down the knot of his tie. He slid his hands up her forearms, so that he mirrored her movements as she undid his top two buttons and pulled his tie free of his shirt, letting it drop to the floor. He still looked nervous as his eyes darted over her face searching for her approval and guidance.

Just wanting him to be comfortable, she lay on the bed and stretched out on her side, patting the space in front of her. He only hesitated a moment before he slipped off his trainers and lay down facing her. He quickly captured her lips in another kiss. She melted against him, hands coming up to stroke across his chest and around his back. As his tongue found hers again, she could feel her skin begin to warm and tingle pleasantly.

She wanted to touch him and so she pulled at the tail of his shirt, rucking it up over his hips so she could reach underneath. She slid her hand along his belly, making his muscles quiver at the contact. He inhaled sharply through his nose as her other hand found the soft, bare skin of his side before she slipped it around to his back, running her fingers feather-light over his spine as he shivered against her. Bringing both hands around to the front, she caressed his chest and was impressed by its smoothness. When she ran the backs of her knuckles over his nipples, he started a little, breaking their kiss.

“I’m sorry.” She reached up to caress his cheek and his eyes were so pale and expressive. They caught the faint light through the open door and turned it sapphire. “Would you prefer to do that to me?”

His eyes went a little wide but he nodded almost instantly. She couldn’t help the smug smile that curved the corners of her lips. Leaning back, she raked her t-shirt over her head in one swift motion. He was already moving forward but on impulse, she flicked the front catch of her bra but held the cups in place. His face went pink and he looked quite shy and vulnerable suddenly. Biting her lip, she pulled the catch back together, intending to take a step back when his hand came up, long fingers brushing over her smaller ones. “S’okay, take it off…if you want.”

“I certainly _do_ want.” She let go and shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

She expected him just to look, at least, at first. But Fitz had never been so predictable. He very much experienced the world through his fingertips. He cupped a breast in each of his hands, just holding them. He seemed to be exploring the weight and texture before he moved on, rolling the flesh pleasantly under his fingers. Her nipples were tense and sensitive as he grazed them lightly with the tips of his fingers. Unfortunately, the sensation only reminded her of how much more she needed.

“Please...use your mouth.” She wound her fingers through his curls and gently tugged him where she wanted him. Not that it took much persuading.

The heat of his mouth on her nipple was like a delicious burning tingle. His tongue flicking over reactive skin was sharp shocks of pleasure. The pull of him sucking the tender flesh between his lips was electric and it sent a fiery bolt straight down her spine, a live wire inflaming a whole new level of need between her legs. Even when he took his mouth away, she could feel the ghost of his lips there, fanning the flame of want. It was rapidly becoming more than she could bear.

There were too many clothes and she wanted them off. She wanted to feel him. Her breath was coming much too quickly and her heart was drumming inside her chest. She was a little worried that he’d be content to do just this all night.

“Fitz.” She needed to know if he was all in, literally and figuratively.

When he responded with only vague “Mmm,” sounds as he lapped and sucked, she tapped his shoulder and his head popped up immediately.

“I want you,” she said, keeping her voice low and sexy as she reached down to touch herself through the fabric of her pajama bottoms.

Fitz watched her hand and when he could finally tear his gaze away from her erotic actions, she saw he’d got a bit of a panicky look in his eye.

“Now?” he whined.

She shook her head from side to side, hoping it looked a bit provocative with her hair flowing onto the pillow behind her. “But soon. Are you—is that okay?” He still looked worried and somehow vaguely upset. “Talk to me,” she said in exasperation. “What’s wrong? Do you not _want_ to make love to me?”

Things were generally a bit of a whirlwind the first time with someone in her experience. A rush of shed clothing, skin-on-skin, a thrill of pleasure (if you were lucky) and done. Slow was for later, when the passion had faded some. This was about as slowly as she’d gone the first time with someone since…the _first_ time. That’s when it hit her.

“Oh, Fitz. Is it…are you—this is your first time?” She gnawed her lip wondering if he would deny it and if she would believe him if he did.

His face got very red and she knew without a word that she’d hit the mark. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes, dropping his cheek against her chest. She placed one hand on either side of his face and turned his head back up so she could see his face. He kept his eyes cast down, just barely peeking up at her from beneath his lashes. His eyes seemed to convey so many things—looking into their depths, she saw so much doubt, concern and enough fear to bring this whole endeavor crashing right down.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Fitz.” He rolled his eyes at her assurance but she pressed on. “I just wish that you’d told me. I know exactly what we can do.” She released his face from between her hands and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“You’re sayin’ that you don’t find anything odd about being a twenty-four-year-old virgin?”

“It’s a little unusual, certainly, but nothing Earth shattering.” She tried to convey her lack of concern with a smile and a soothing stroke down his back. She hoped he would believe her but she knew that it was likely an ongoing worry for him. One that, hopefully, would be gone in a matter of minutes. To her relief, he looked truly hopeful for the first time since it all began. “In a way…I’m quite honored.”

He scoffed and flung himself backward onto the bed. “Right, of course. I’m sure it’s an _honor_ to be on the receiving end of my first…” He seemed to realize the direction his thoughts were leading was someplace less than flattering to her and he ceased his tirade. He reached up to rub two fingers over his eyelid. “God, Jemma, that is just…so… _not_ what I meant to say there.” He rolled back toward her and took her hand. “I’m really, really sorry I just said tha’. You...are wonderful. And you’re being so…incredible about…everythin’. I’m jus’ bein’…an arse...well, myself...who happens to be an arse.”

She couldn’t help but smile, remorseful-Fitz was another of his sides she most adored. “You don’t have anything to be worried about. Just…tell me what frightens you about this, alright?” She couldn’t solve problems if she didn’t know what they were. She’d never really considered the issue from the male perspective either.

“Tha’ question for starters.” He looked tense, still slightly irritated and certainly didn’t seem to be joking.

She deeply suppressed the giggle that wanted to bubble up at his usual grumpiness. It was absolutely not the time for it. She also found herself reassured that even as they were now, Fitz would _always_ be Fitz.

“But clearly you’re having some doubts. I mean, are you afraid that you won’t know what to do? Because, biology gives quite a helping hand in the form of instinct.” He was looking at her in the way she knew meant he was not interested in a biology lecture at this time. “Eh, perhaps you’re concerned it will be unpleasant in some way…or that it might be over too quickly.” His eyes flashed up at hers. “Well, I have an idea for that. What else? You…em, won’t like…me?” His eyebrows flew up in surprise. “No? Alright...perhaps you’re fearing judgement of some sort?”

“Jemma. _Jemma_ , please.” He was holding up a hand to stop her brainstorming session. Sucking in a breath and letting it out again with a huff. “I’m only thinking about you. I don’t want it to be completely awful for _you_. You know _everything_ …I mean… Okay.” He huffed out another breath. “Scratch that. _I_ don’t know what  _I’m_ doin' and you…probably expect…erm, better?” He was gritting his teeth with one eye half-closed, bracing himself, seemingly filled with the trepidation of a man who expects to be struck dead with a look.

She just pulled him against her, hugging him around the shoulders. She heard a gulp as he swallowed hard next to her ear. Leaning back, so he could see the sincerity in her eyes and written on her face, she said, “There’s nothing you could do that would make it awful.” His eyebrows pulled together and drew up at the same time. “Don’t be a skeptic.” She poked his shoulder. “So, first thing...I’m going to to suck you off.”

He started to cough uncontrollably as he had in the lab. Between coughs, he let loose a few muffled words. “Jem…bloody…Jesus...the…Hell…” She threatened to pound him on the back again but he waved her off as if swatting at a fly. Finally, he began to taper off into very loud throat clearing.

It was just as well that the ache between her legs had come down a level or two. This would ultimately make it better for both of them.

“Alright, so first things first, we need to get some clothes off you.” It was said in a cheerful tone that certainly didn’t go with the dark look on Fitz’s face.

Most men would have done cartwheels at finding they were about to be blown. Fitz, however, was another matter.

“You don’t have to—” he blurted, leaning away as if preparing for an attack.

“I know that. You just need to trust me. You said yourself that I know _everything_.” She chuckled. Yes, she couldn’t help bringing that back up. She imagined that she would again. Probably many, many times. The corner of his mouth twitched but even that didn’t bring a smile. “Fitz, if you’re a little spent, the next part will be much easier...and better.”

He still looked rather unhappy as he peered at her from the corner of his eye. “I just wasn’t plannin' on…”

“I think you’ll enjoy it.” She tried for cheerful again and even used a sing-song-y tone that seemed vaguely inappropriate to the situation.

“I don’t really think tha’s the issue.” He tossed his hands in the air, but if it was supposed to make his point for him, it was lost on Jemma.

“And what is…the issue?” she asked, her eyes wide and curious.

“I really wanted it to be nice.”

“And you don’t think that would be nice?”

“For _you_ , I mean. I wanted it to be nice…for _you_.” His arms were crossed over his chest and his tone was mildly exasperated again.

“Ah, I see the issue now.” She slid her hands under his crossed arms, over the front of his button-down, smoothing the fabric over his chest and then sloppily kissed his neck just under his ear next to his jaw. “You don’t think I’d enjoy that, then?” He was looking at her sideways as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She leaned closer, gently sucking his earlobe between her teeth then letting it go before she whispered. “I will _completely_ enjoy sucking your cock.”

Fitz rolled away several inches in an effort to see her face and nearly ended up falling off the bed. “Jem _ma_.” He said it as if he were chastising her for being naughty or forgetting to put his tools away properly in the lab. “Jesus Christ.”

“Come on, Fitzy. Let’s get those things off you.”

His face was all disbelief but he wasn’t trying to stop her as she reached first for the buttons of his shirt. When she had that off, she went for the button on his jeans. He reached down and clutched her fingers in his, squeezing lightly.

She quirked her lips and instead kissed his neck where it met his shoulder, dragging her lips and teeth down across soft skin, lower and lower, until she found his nipple again. She laved it with her tongue until he clutched the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. She kept going placing open-mouthed kisses to the supple flesh of his ribs and belly. He gasped when she scraped over the more tender parts with her teeth. She sunk her tongue into hollows and blew on the moist skin to elicit his tremors.

He was gasping, his fingers clutching at her shoulder as she finally undid the zip on his jeans. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulled them very slowly down his hips and legs with his jeans, stopping mid-thigh. She didn’t want him to get spooked again, but she also wanted him to feel like he had control. She was pleasantly surprised that the digit ratio study still appeared to be accurate.

“I’m going to touch you.” She didn’t want him to be afraid she would be too aggressive with him.

He lowered his eyes just long enough to make it clear that was okay before leaning his head back against the pillow again shyly. She was disappointed that she couldn’t quite see his face. She took him in her hand and he groaned. She rubbed her thumb along the very hard length of him and he twitched in her hand. If she waited much longer it would become more of a hand job than a blow job.

“I’m going to start now.” She peered up at him, trying to catch sight of his face but he was already nodding vigorously.

She licked the head of his cock, tasting his musky sweet fluid that had leaked out during his arousal. Slowly, she took him partway into her mouth, enjoying the velvet texture against her tongue, she drew her lips tight before pulling back and releasing him. She saw his fingers twisting into the sheets pulling so hard she was a little afraid he might tear them. She slid her tongue along the underside until she reached the base and then back again before she took him fully into her mouth. She felt him fight the urge to thrust as his hips rolled slightly.

“Oh, God. Oh, _fuck_.” His cry wasn’t loud but it was emphatic and a bit of an odd combination when she thought about it. His fingers were shaking a little as he searched out her hair, combing through ever-so-gently. His breathing came in ragged bursts between held breaths as he struggled to maintain control of himself.

She really was enjoying herself. This was, at bare minimum, a very nice ego boost. She wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and started to move, sliding him in and out as she gripped and pumped him with her hand. She used her tongue to tease as she added suction to the mix of pleasurable sensations. He was losing his battle to keep himself from moving and his hips twitched toward her. She placed her forearm low across his belly to keep him from moving too much. It took longer than she would've thought but it was only a few more strokes before she felt the flutter that signaled his release and she squeezed him a bit harder, trying to intensify the feeling for him.

“Jemma. God. I’m...”

He didn’t cry out but she tasted him on the back of her tongue as he came. She continued to draw along his length until his spasms had ended. Sliding him free, she gave him a final teasing flick of her tongue across his slit.

She kissed her way up his torso, letting her nipples skim pleasantly along his belly and chest. She kissed the hollow of his throat, his Adam’s apple, under his jaw, his cheek and then his lips. His arms came around her, pulling her down against him.

“You were _not_ wrong.” He sighed with contentment. She smiled against his neck, nipping a bit with her teeth.

“Mm-hmm, I had a feeling. It was quite enjoyable for me as well.” She flattened out along his body, skin against sensitive skin, adjusting herself against him. She aligned her head comfortably beneath his chin before she brought her fingers up to thread through the curls at his temple.

He brushed his nose through the hair on her crown and she could hear him take in the smell of her as he asked, “Really?”

“I promise.”

She wanted to give him a moment to recover but her own body was betraying her, she breathed in his scent, knew his pheromones must be working on her. She registered the feel of his smooth nearly hairless torso against hers and it reminded her of how she wanted to feel the sweat-slicked slide of his body against hers, feel his hips rocking between her thighs as he pumped into her.

“Oh.” She brought her hand to her lips too late to hold back the sudden needy exclamation.

Fitz stroked a hand down her back and she lifted herself up, planting a hand to either side of his shoulders and brought their mouths together. She poured all the passion that she felt into the slide of her lips against his, seeking entrance with her tongue and feeling the fire blaze up low in her belly.

She slipped her pajama bottoms down her legs easily, barely even breaking their kiss. Then she realized that Fitz's jeans were going to take more work.

Pulling back, she said, “I want to feel you against me.” His expression was a little stunned at seeing her fully naked now and he just nodded. She decided to start at his feet and pulled the jeans off before returning for his briefs.

She took a condom from her dresser and laid it on the nightstand. He’d returned to his look of worry. She lowered herself over him, chest to chest, bracketing his hips with her thighs. He shivered at the feel of her rubbing along his length. He’d already begun to grow hard again. She was impressed.

She took his hands and placed them on her bum, showing him with her hands over his, how she liked to be squeezed. Then she pulled his hand down to touch between her legs. She was already wet but she wanted his lovely, long fingers to touch her. He required very little encouragement or instruction. He liked to explore new things.

As he stroked her below, she fanned her hands out over his torso, trying to feel as much of him as she could. She started at his neck and dragged her fingers down over his skin until she was scratching through the soft line of hair that trailed toward the coarser thatch around his cock.

She brought her fingers down through it, brushing over his shaft to his testicles. She traced up his hardness until she found the source where she stroked the tender skin of his perineum. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed and mouth open as she surveyed him. If her need weren’t so great, she would have mapped him with her tongue.

Instead, she flipped herself onto her back, jolting him from his pleasant preoccupation. Her skin was feverish, fine beads of sweat were forming all over her body.

“I need you now.” She cupped her own breasts, tugging at the nipples. It was only a moment later when he was looking at her imploringly with the opened condom packet in his hand. She rolled it on for him and urged him between her thighs.

She guided him. He went slowly which she normally would have appreciated but at the moment it was torture. She gasped at finally being filled after feeling so empty. She pulled him down for a kiss, his tongue was messy and undirected as he focused on the new sensation of moving with the pitches and rolls of her hips as she tried to achieve maximum friction where she wanted it.

Soon, they were both slicked with sweat. Her hair clung to her neck and back uncomfortably but she tried to ignore it. She already felt the faint echo of her oncoming orgasm as she moved erratically, chasing after the exact speed and angle she needed. Their bodies skated together smoothly as he bucked wildly trying to meet her only to find her going yet another way. Finally, he pinned her hip to the bed with his hand, using his weight to hold her in place so he could be more precise. She whimpered in protest until he chanced upon the elusive spot she’d been searching for.

“ _There!_ Oh, just there!” she cried against his lips and she felt him smile as he sped up, grinding into it again and again. She wasn’t sure what she cried as pleasure rolled through her, whether it had been incoherent or his name, she didn’t know. She _was_ sure of the smug look on his face when he finally rolled off her though. She couldn’t help but smirk a bit herself. Self-satisfied-Fitz was another of his best-loved sides, though she’d _never_ tell him so. Perhaps it was time she admitted that _he_ was her favorite...in _all_ his many aspects.

When they’d cleaned up a bit she went to get them some water. She returned, still naked, and feeling a bit of a mess with her damp hair clinging when she saw him laying there, sheet up around his waist and arms above his head, just watching her. His face was smooth, relaxed, his eyes wide and...reverent.

She’d never really been particularly self-conscious about her body. She had her small worries about her least favorite parts but she’d never felt anyone else cared much but her. Certainly not any man who’d ever seen her in her natural state. When she saw Fitz looking at her like that, as she mundanely handed him a water, she felt more naked than she ever had in her life. It wasn’t just her body somehow, it was almost as if that didn’t matter at all, he was looking at her essence and was in awe.

It was at once frightening to be looked on so fully but also comforting—if he could see her so completely and find nothing wanting, even love her more, then surely there was nothing to worry about. There was no one whose opinion mattered more to her. He was the best person she knew.

As she walked around the bed to join him, she began to notice that he was also looking at her like a particularly fascinating explosion. He seemed like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to look away or never take his eyes from her again. Like he was both amazed...and yet slightly terrified.

She realized that this is what she was for him, in that moment—a source of his utter transfixion and a thing that could tear him apart so thoroughly that he would be reduced to his component elements. She was completely taken aback, not that Fitz was so in love with her, but that she had never recognized it before now. She swallowed thickly, feeling a tightness in her chest, knowing now that she held his heart in the palm of her hand. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes at knowing how much he trusted her.

“Wha’ is it?” He sat up on the bed, his face had gone from its emotionally exposed openness to raw concern when he saw the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said, pushing him back, lying down and then molding herself to his side. “I…I just love you, is all.”

“Jemma.” His tone was surprised but his eyes were again filled with that worshipful appreciation. He turned to face her and dragged her against him. “I—I love you, too. But I didn’t know tha’ _you_ felt... Wait, you do mean like—”

She cut him off, kissing his lips hotly with her fingers nested in his curls before wiping a tear from under her eye with one finger. “Yes, I mean I _really_ love you, Leo Fitz. And I didn’t know either. But...now I do.”

He hugged her to him then and she felt him smile against her shoulder. “I guess it wasn’t awful, then?”

She smacked the back of his head playfully. “Shhh, don’t spoil the moment, you git.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so, this one just sort of poked me in the eye...with fingers not...other things. Get your mind outta the gutter. Sheesh.
> 
> There is a real study about digit ratio/penile length that came out in 2011 (when this fic is set). Explained more in laymen's terms, if the ring finger is longer than the index finger...that good...that very good. Yep, Fitz's totally is. Noticing that made this whole fic happen.
> 
> Here's the link if you have a scholarly interest. http://www.isdbweb.org/documents/file/4e89b83606224.pdf
> 
> British-isms you may or may not know (I'm not saying you don't, but just in case!)  
> Spun out: stressed out  
> Knackered: tired  
> Winding someone up: teasing  
> Flat: apartment  
> Tea (as in staying for): Dinner  
> Gob: mouth  
> Git: idiot (sort of affectionate)
> 
> If you liked it...please review/comment and maybe I'll write more like it. ;) 
> 
> If you hated it...please review/comment and I'll never do this again. :(


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